Page 4 of Steeled

“Oh, that’s right. A fresh cut for Whit’s weddin’ on Saturday. Doin’ the usual, or might you spice it up a bit this time?”

Nora laughed under her breath as she hung her purse at her workstation, barely noticing the familiar reflection she cast in the spotless mirror. Her hair was grown out long, laying halfway down her chest and back. If the sun hit it just right, the undertone of deep auburn hidden in her brunette mane could be seen. Much as she liked being responsible for someone’s new look, she hadn’t changed her own hair in ages. She preferred it that way.

While Barb always gave her free reign with her tresses, Nora had never taken the woman’s trust for granted. She’d fallen asleep the night before pondering the very question Arizona posed.

“Much as I’d like to impress her with somethin’ inspirational, I think I’ll go ahead and play it safe. It’s her goddaughter’s special day, and I’m just aimin’ for classy.”

Barb showed up ten minutes later, right as Nora finished tying on her apron.

“Okay…okay, I will,” she insisted, speaking into the phone pressed against her ear. She waved at Arizona and winked at Nora before she focused her attention on the conversation she was obviously trying to wrap up. “Whitney, darlin’, it’s gonna be great. Now stop your worryin’. Give your mama a break, while you’re at it. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

When her call had come to an end, she dropped her arm and sighed.

“You know—some days I wonder what I might have missed out on not gettin’ married. Nothin’ like gettin’ done up like a bride on her big day—and then I get a call from my best friend tellin’ me I need to talk some sense into my goddaughter before she makes everyone lose their minds. That’s all the reminder I need that a weddin’ can turn the sweetest girl into a madwoman.”

Arizona chuckled and Nora let a smile play across her lips.

“I’ll say it ‘til the day I die—I don’t regret elopin’ with my Gavin.”

“Happy as you two have always been, I know you don’t.” Barb discarded her purse behind the front counter then headed toward the washing sinks. Nora followed after her, snagging a salon cape as she went.

“Whit wanted me to ask you if y’all wanted a tip jar at the reception? We know these types of gigs aren’t your thing and you’re doin’ it as a favor to me. If you wanted to make a little extra—”

Nora scoffed light-heartedly as she opened the cape she intended to drape around her employer’s chest. “Barb,absolutely not. I’m happy to do it. The Pick-a-ninnies, too. Not to mention, Evie-B has never been to a weddin’. It should be a good time. Whit and George paid our fee, and we won’t ask for more.”

It was true what Barb said. Nora-Jean and the Pick-a-ninnies weren’t known for playing at receptions. They weren’t much more than a small, local, bluegrass band, but they had a reputation twenty miles north and south of Shelbyville. They played at bars, mostly. In the summer, they might hit a festival or two, but life and the responsibilities of home knocked the band down a few notches on everyone’s priority lists.

It could never be denied, the Pick-a-ninnies loved to play—but not nearly as much as Nora. Next to Evie, music kept her sane.

Barb had Nora’s attention for an hour and a half. By the time she got out of the chair, her hair was so straight and soft, the slightest breeze would make it dance.

Like most days, there was enough activity in the salon to make the time pass. It wasn’t until around noon that Nora had a chance to step away in order to make a run to Rock-N-Joe. She didn’t stay long, ordering a coffee for herself and a light lunch for the girls back at the salon. Like clockwork, Evie called Nora five minutes after two from Aunt Darlene’s phone. After a short, cheery exchange, she promised she’d be by the house in a couple hours, then returned to one of her regular clients occupying her chair.

It was almost four-thirty when Nora climbed the short set of stairs leading up to the wrap around porch in front of the Douglas’ house. They lived in a humble abode, a little off the beaten path, sitting on an acre of land. They’d been in the house as long as Nora could remember. Seeing as her uncle had been in construction since before Nora was born, it was no surprise their home looked almost as good as new even after a couple decades. The older Wayde got, the higher he promoted in the company,the less work he did with his hands day-to-day. Darlene was always coming up with excuses for projects around the house to keep her husband from getting too soft.

Nora knocked on the door twice before letting herself inside. Right away, she heard the familiar rattle of the pressure cooker on the stove. She smiled, wondering what kind of jam her aunt had been canning that day.DeeDee’s Jamswere a staple not only in Nora’s pantry, but in one of the mom-and-pop shops in the Town Square as well as the Shelbyville Farmer’s Market all summer long.

The closer Nora got to the kitchen, located near the back of the house, the easier it was for her to hear Evie, who seemed to be answering a question her mother hadn’t heard. As soon as Nora entered the room, her daughter looked up from her task. She was standing on a four-legged stool at the island, a pile of clipped twine, a few cooled jars of jam, and squares of red, floral printed cloth in front of her. Evie gasped before she exclaimed, “Mommy, look, I’m helping!”

“I see that. And what have you got there?”

“Christmas fig jam.” As she said the words, she looked up at her great aunt for confirmation. Darlene gave her a subtle nod and a wink before placing another fabric square over the lid of a new jar. She then held it still, letting Evie complete the task of tying the twine in a bow to keep it in place.

It was during moments such as this when Nora-Jean felt so grateful it made her chest hurt. She didn’t know where she’d be without her Aunt Darlene and Uncle Wayde. They were the closest thing to grandparents her Evie would ever know. They’d been part of her little girl’s life since day one, and they welcomed her with open arms any chance they got.

Darlene and Wayde never had any kids of their own, on account of infertility issues. More than once, Nora’s uncle told her his sweetheart wasn’t bitter because God had blessed themwith a niece to dote on; then again with a great niece they loved more than anyone else in the world. But the truth was, they’d never fully understand in how many ways they had saved her throughout her life. Nora was far from perfect, and she’d made plenty of mistakes along the way—but her aunt and uncle were always there for her in a way her parents never were.

“Good day?” asked Darlene, pulling Nora from her thoughts.

Nora sucked in a breath, dropped her purse on the corner of the island, and nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. It was.”

“Glad to hear it. I know you’ve got a busy weekend comin’ up with that weddin’—but if you’re free tomorrow night, why don’t y’all come on over for dinner?”

“That sounds great. We’ll be here.”

“Mommy, what are we havin’ for dinner?”

Reaching over to straighten Evie’s headband and run her fingers through her hair, Nora replied, “I don’t know yet. You gettin’ hungry?”

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